STUFF

Why do I have so much stuff

I stood in front of my tiny three door closet in my rather small rented room in the middle of a rather small city in a rather small country and I stared at the clothing on the hangers. I had run out of space, so I hung multiple items on each one. I took a deep breath. My backpack was lying on the floor. My room was immaculate, everything clean and where it belonged, albeit a bit dusty. The windows were still closed I climbed over my bed to open them. I removed my usual travel scarf and zip up. It was hot as usual. What the hell did i do with all of this stuff?

After weeks of living out of a 10kg backpack with no more than 7 shirts to choose from I browsed through my closet like it was a sale rack at Zara. I had forgotten about this dress. And those shoes. I never wear those. And that bag, god I love that bag. I stepped back.

I didn't need any of this. None of it made me feel good. Even buying them didn't make me feel good. I can remember nearly every purchase and more often than not it was a stressful and unpleasant process of, what seemed to then be necessity. Necessity. How necessary were 5 pairs of black heeled sandals? Judging by the fact that I had completely forgotten about 3 of them until I dug them out, not very.

This happens to me every time I come back from a journey. I look around my room, the place that houses the life that is me. Whoever walks in should able to deduce a number of things just by rifling through the items there or scanning the walls, but I don't necessarily like what the walls would tell them. Books, yes, lots of books. But also tons of make up. Make up I forget I own. Instrument cases, yes, and sports gear under my bed, but also shoes. Shoes i haven't parted with but never wear. Kimonos I received as gifts in Japan, but also designer bags. Designer bags I toss around and haven't cleaned. I grew tired of them too quickly.

I thought about this for a moment. Maybe I should just sell everything I own. Can I? What would be then?

Of all the things I purchase, I realize, I am happiest after purchasing a plane ticket, a book - even if it's used, gifts for someone I care about, and food- the stranger the better. When I spend my money on these things, I smile. There is no feeling better than walking home from a book store after spontaneously buying a book you hadn't intended to buy and walking all the way home anxious to read the first page. It is that exact same feeling as being anxious to get on a plane. Both of these things take you to some place you haven't been, even if you have. I examine a dress I bought before I left. I hadn't had the opportunity to wear it yet. Where would it take me that nothing else could?

I struggled to think of a good answer.

The idea of selling all or most of my things was terrifying . Which was all the more reason to do it.

So I did.